


Away For The Holidays

by MangoTea



Category: Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse, WODEHOUSE P. G. - Works
Genre: Clothing Kink, Fluff, Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 15:27:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14264022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MangoTea/pseuds/MangoTea
Summary: Bertie and Reginald find themselves dealing with a Wooster family obligation during their first holiday together.





	Away For The Holidays

I rode toward the Almsbrook Manor stuffed in the back of a hired car with Reginald, known to the world beyond ourselves as the stalwart Jeeves. I was silently glad that he had insisted on relying on trains and local transport instead of driving ourselves. The icy roads and snowy fields would be charming and cozy when viewed through windows with a cup of tea in hand and one's corpus enfolded in an arm chair. This was no weather for zipping about in a tiny roadster. When the cab slid down a particularly steep hill I squeaked. Reginald made a soft hum. That gentle acknowledgment made me think about all the ways he looks after me. I would still tell him later, let words of gratitude and love flow from me. When you know someone so well, sweet words can be like cream over a pudding: not really needed, but spilling extra all around makes life sweeter. 

The cab jolted to a stop in front of the Manor. The dwelling proved to be a large, gray looming construction with a walled courtyard. It looked built more for defense than for leisure. A swarm of footmen darted out to get our things and ourselves out of the cab and into the manor as fast as possible. Before we reached the door, I paused for a single, deep breath. I feared would be my last moment being pressed against the side of Reginald until the holidays were over. For the coming fortnight the being that gives me comfort and joy would be quiet out of reach. Or rather, being a good Valet he will stay within reach but I dare not touch. He leaned into my side gently, an invisible motion to peering eyes, but a strongly felt touch of affection to yours truly.

I let myself be whisked inside. Despite all efforts of the courageous footmen, my cheeks were reddened by the time we had solid wooden doors shut behind us. Inside my distant relations welcomed me with a thin veneer of warmth. The daughter of the set eyed me warily like I was some dread creature who had dragged itself into the hall to seek shelter from the storm. When bare bones greetings were done, I was told to go dress for dinner. 

Once in the sanctuary of a private room I let out “Should I proclaim at dinner that I have no intentions of trying to entangle that poor girl. Ooh, that look she was giving me.”

“Perhaps draw her aside and talk to her alone before the evening meal.” Reginald took my travel coat and put it aside to be aired and brushed.

“Can you imagine what she must be thinking? That she is going to spend the holidays stuck in this house, all escape cut off by bad weather, with me running after her, reading her poetry and trying to press my lips to her cheek.”

“I cannot say, Sir. Spending a holiday trapped with you chasing after one doesn't sound too terrible,” Reginald responded evenly.

I shook my head. He was going to be like that, was he? “In your mind, are you sympathizing with the girl? Thinking about me seeking you room to room filled with declarations of love. My hands and my lips having all sorts of designs upon you?”

“I doubt you would have trouble finding me, Sir. I pride myself on being attentive to your wishes.” The last was said quietly in my ear. This drew out a longing in me that could not be answered, not for weeks anyway.

“Oh dash it, Reginald. This is our first holiday together. Really together I mean. I had such hopes for spiced drinks and spending lazy hours in bedclothes on the sofa, a blanket across our laps.” I let my head sag forward onto his chest as I spoke. “Instead of that we have separate rooms. You will still help me out of my clothes, but I can't return the favor.”

“I have always heard that the first separation of lovers is the worst. That this forced estrangement is happening over the holidays is a bit hard to bear.” 

“I could deal better if we were fully separate. Not that I want us apart, but when sentimental music starts playing over the sound of the fire crackling, and other couples start to relax and lean into each other, the impulse to reach for your hand will be strong. Dare I hope that you will at least feel a pang or two?”

Reginald wrapped strong arms around my shoulders. “I will feel much, but I think I will be more effected by not being affectionate during our daily routines. The way I will have to behave towards you will feel cold, and I dislike coldness between us.”

“Cold behaviors and cold beds. This is my fault, Old Thing, for not standing up to Aunt Agatha.” 

“Your Aunt is formidable. It is important to pick and choose one's battles. Let's get you dressed before your relations wonder what we are up to.” 

“I doubt they could guess.” 

“The walls are old and thin. Behave, or they wont have to guess.” He had returned to his usual tone, even and steady enough to build a house on.

I reached for the luggage to grab my shave kit, but he batted at my hands. He was still my valet and took pride in his work. We were still working out how to balance that. At a manor house such as this, he would of course be at his most particular. I collapsed into an arm chair as he prepared the room and laid out my things. One of the household men entered the room with barely a knock, delivering hot water. A harsh reminder of how careful we would have to be. 

“Your shave is ready, Sir,” he said.

I stood and we entered our familiar routine of Gentleman and Valet as I readied myself for the evening. My Reginald's touch was an impersonal and precise as a surgeon's. He wrapped me in my cummerbund and attached the collar and cuffs, building my starched suit of armor. So familiar were these old patterns, when Jeeves' hand did at last stray I was startled. Rather than sliding the bow-tie around my collar, he held the strip of cloth in front of my face, close enough to smell it. The scent of mild cologne and musk clung to it, a particular mix that filled the old gray matter with the memory of a hundred close embraces.

“Jeeves, I think you have our bits and bobs mixed up. That is not my tie.”

“No, Bertram,” Reginal's voice was a deep purr by my ear. “In formal settings our jackets and shirts are quite different, but one black bow-tie is much like another. Mine is slightly more worn, but that difference cannot be seen, only felt.”

He pulled the tie around my collar and twisted it into the first step of a proper knot. “No one will know this is around your neck or that you are mine.”

My hands reached blindly behind me, desperate to connect with him in this brief moment of intimacy. I found fine cotton with the heat of his body bleeding through. My fingers wrapped around his sides, feeling the hard muscles underneath. A dashed awkward position it left me in, my chest lifted, my head slowly falling back. I distantly knew that I looked like a pelican that had lost track of which way was up. The bow-tie made a soft sound as Reginald continued to wind and pull in into the proper shape. 

He took my hands in his and held them firmly. “When the pangs get too much and you need to feel that sense that I am with you, do not reach for me. Reach for knot, and know the bonds between us are tied even tighter.”

“Reginald...” My voice was barely a whisper. Only because his name was so familiar to my tongue that I was able to give shape to the sound, overcome as I was. 

He indulged me with a kiss on the cheek, squeezed my hands for a moment and let go. I grabbed the nearby mantle to steady myself. When my brain was clear and once again in charge of the mass of limbs and feelings that make up yours truly, I let go and put my arms out so he could finish dressing me. His motions had returned to swift and clinical. He fussed with my layers and brushed the fibers of my coat. Then came a tap at my shoulder, his signal that was was finished putting me together. 

I looked over my double in the mirror and realized he was quite right, nothing about my outfit looked out of order. His token was in plain sight, and yet secret. I ran my finger along the side, it was distinctly softer than mine. 

A discreet cough sounded by the door. Jeeves was waiting to send me out among my distant relations. 

I took a deep slow breath, and went forth to untangle tensions. 

His advice had been on spot, as usual. Once the girl knew I was content being her third cousin some number of times removed and nothing more, we strode in arm in arm. We had a relaxed dinner, lying to each other that the branches of our families would be closer from here on out. This was no new beginning between the Almsbrooks and the Woosters, just a quiet country interlude among names that would fade in my memory. I would remember the cold and the sweeping views more than I would remember their faces. Mostly I would remember my dearest Reginald standing by my shoulder, just out of reach and the soft feel of silk around my neck that kept me together through all of it. 

After a few days of play acting our old roles, Reginald gathered me in a parlor late at night on Christmas Eve. He put forth some story of important and personal papers arriving in the mail, requiring a truly private space while they were dealt with. The butler locked the doors for us after only a few side glances. The room had a blazing fire going and was decorated with green boughs of pine and holly. The terribly important papers I had to look over revealed themselves to be sheet music of love songs. 

“My present is that I get to learn songs to sing to you?”

“When you put it that way-”

“Thank you, it's perfect. I'll have to practice when you are out so you can listen to them with fresh ears once I've got them down.”

I pulled out a simple map of the world, done in black ink on fine cotton paper. I'd carefully gone over the places we've visited together with a washes of color.

“Bertie, this is wonderful. Every time I see this, I will think of all the things we've done.”

“Your real present is that we shall do more, once we have escaped this house. You can choose which bit will need to be filled in next. I only ask that we go to a place where we can have more private time than the few minutes we are stealing here.”

“Some place far away where we will see only each other? That sounds like heaven right now. Thank you, Love. Speaking of prying eyes, we shouldn't trust the staff to not at least peek for two long. So far from civilization, they long for gossip.” Reginald put down his present and I put down mine. We looked at each other. 

We stepped close in front of the fire. I wondered at the silhouette we made and wish that I dared have that captured. 

“I love you dearly, Reginald, and I am endlessly grateful for everything. Every moment I am the center of your attention is blessed and every moment I can give you all my attention is blissful. Forgive my teasing, knowing what songs to learn to brighten your day fills my deepest wishes.”

“I know Bertram, I love you, too.”

I lifted my hands to his face, feeling his skin for the first time in days. Finally, not just his warmth soaking through layers of cloth, his actual skin. I felt his breath and smelled the mint he must have been chewing earlier. His hand cupped the back of my head. He drew me in and we kissed. Our one Christmas kiss. The sweet moment seemed to last for ages. This warmth would see us through a holiday away from home.


End file.
